Mountains O'Mourne
by Nargles1211
Summary: Just a little drabble about Scotland and an OC. Basically, Allistor was in London but didn't answer Mary's last letter because he was coming home and wanted to answer it in person. I hope you enjoy!


**Generic Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or this song**

**This is just a quick little drabble based off of a song I found online and a little rp I have going on with FelicianaV. I apologize for any OOCness of Allistor, he is the country of Scotland by the way. (forgot to add that in earlier) This is set around when Allistor was still his own country and fighting with England/Arthur all of the time. I hope you enjoy reading!**

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"Mary, I'm home!" Allistor Kirkland called out as he opened the door to the quaint cottage he shared with his beloved wife.

"Allistor!" she joyfully cried as she launched herself into his arms. "When you didn't answer my letter, I thought something happened."

"Of course something happened. I was sent home," he grinned then grabbed a bottle of whiskey and took a swig. Several months ago, he had been sent to London for business matters…and to bother his younger brother, Arthur. "Besides, I can answer you in person now. Isn't that better?"

"Yes, it is," she admitted, pecking his lips lightly. "Can you answer it now please?"

"Hold on! I've barely stepped through the door," he replied. Allistor finished off his whisky and opened another. "Now I'll tell you," he shuffled off to sift through the house.

"Allistor, may I ask what you're doing?"

"Just a moment, bonnie. I'm gettin' somethin'." Moments later he returned with his guitar and pulled her to the back porch.

"I really don't want to know, do I?"

"You'll like it. Quit worrying," he smiled with a wink then sat on the step with her and started strumming a few notes on the old guitar as a beautiful song spilled from his lips.

_Oh, Mary, this London's a wonderful sight_

_With people here working by day and by night_

_They don't sow potatoes nor barley nor wheat_

_But there's gangs of them diggin' for gold in the street_

_At least when I asked them, that's what I was told_

_So I just took a hand at this diggin' for gold_

_But for all that I've found there, I might as well be_

_In the place where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea_

_I believe that when writin' a wish you expressed_

_As to how the fine ladies of London were dressed_

_But if you'll believe me, when asked to a ball_

_They don't wear no tops to their dresses at all_

_Oh, I've seen them myself and you could not in truth_

_Tell if they were bound for a ball or a bath_

_Don't be startin' those fashions now, Mary Mochree,_

_In the place where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea_

_There's beautiful girls here, oh, never you mind_

_Beautiful shapes Nature never designed_

_Lovely complexions of roses and cream_

_But let me remark with regard to the same_

_That if at those roses you venture to sip_

_The colors might all come away on your lip_

_So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waitin' for me_

_In the place where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea_

Speechless by now, Mary settled for attacking her red-haired love with a huge hug.

"I guess it's safe to assume that you enjoyed this?"

"I forgot how soft you can be when you want to."

"Shut it. I'm not going to stop getting in bar fights or stop beating Artie up anytime soon and we both know that…no matter how soft you think I am."

"I know, but you're still just a big softie," she retorted playfully and poked him in the side.

"Am not…"

"Really?"

"Don't tell anyone…" he sighed in defeat.

"I won't. It can be our little secret."

"Alright, my wild rose." Mary rubbed their noses together when he was done.

"I'm so happy you're back…" she breathed as she dropped her head onto his shoulder.

"So am I," Allistor agreed, content.

The years passed much the same as always after that. Allistor and Mary were unable to have children since he was a country while she was just a human, but it didn't stop them from enjoying every second together. Some days, Allistor would come home from drinking with his brothers and be covered in bruises. Mary only chuckled softly, chastised im for making her take care of him at such an indecent hour, and clean him up. No one questioned their love, and Francis never failed to ask them how l'amour was treating them. Even when Mary was old and Allistor remained eternally young, their love never changed.

At age eighty-two, Mary passed away in her sleep. Allistor couldn't bring himself to be completely devastated as silent tears slid down his face. While he stood on the fresh mound of dirt over her coffin, a few sad lines slipped from his lips.

"So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waitin' for me, in the place where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea…"

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**I also apologize for the sad ending...I don't usually write sad endings for Hetalia, but I hope you weren't too disappointed in it. The song is called Mountains O'Mourne and you can find it at the address below. Thank you again for reading!**

** /watch?v=iEZIKSm78k8**


End file.
